What Did You Put in My Drink?
by Devon Marie Darling
Summary: Italy gets revenge; Greece forces Japan to participate in nude activities; France, Britian, and America learn a little more about each other than they might have wanted to, and Germany can't drink like he used to. The first three chapters were my dream, the last was an idea supplied by my friends. GerIta, Greece x Japan, FrUk/FrUkAm, and more GerIta! Enjoy. xD (Crack-fic!)
1. Chapter 1: Italy's Revenge

Devon: Alright, so I should be working on my P3 story, or my video-game/romance/Yu-Yu-Hakusho/really random sequel, or like any of my already published pieces but I'm been obsessed with Hetalia lately so yeah...Anyways, I don't really like the ending but I wasn't totally sure how to end it becuase I had a dream that involved this and the next two chapters all mashed together but in shorter versions and there wasn't an exact ending in my dream so I had to kind of make one up myself. (And I'm honest to God not joking, this was a dream.) xD Anyways, I hope you enjoy.

Warning: Swearing and you could possibly consider it to contain...references to sex(?) I don't know its late. Anyways, not really supposed to be for children.

Rating: T because even though I would probably rate my dream M or even M+, I just don't really want to write that. Because I'm lazy. Maybe later.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia. And if I did I would probably have some kind of weird-ass harem because I have this strange attraction to Japan, China, Germany, Russia, and Canada. Especially China and Germany...Anyways.

What Did You Put in My Drink?!  
Chapter One: Italy's Revenge  
(Suggested) Italy x Germany (GerIta)

Like all of his problems as of late, it was Italy's fault. Granted, just this once, the blame could partly be put on Japan and himself as well. But it was still technically Italy's fault.

It had started on the island where the Allies had found them not too long ago. Like usual, after eating, he and Japan were discussing Italy in some way or another while Italy seemed to be dozing off next to them. This specific time two of them were discussing how truly clueless and helpless Italy could be. Him having the upper hand on anyone seemed like such a ridiculous idea, even Japan laughed a bit when it was mentioned. Germany believes his down fall was the fact that Italy wasn't really asleep this specific time, but rather trying to point out constellations in the stars and muttering to himself some kind of ridiculous song about the Earth and boots.

Evidently, he should give the Italian more credit. But who knew he would actually be listening despite all of his goddamn mumbling?

So if the island was where it started, it would probably be here where it ended. Germany's bedroom.

"Italy. Untie me. Now." Germany wasn't happy with the Italian who was standing over him with a very cocky expression on his face. In his head, Germany damned himself for teaching Italy all those knots in his training as his arms were currently tied over his head. With a striped neck tie he had seen Italy wear a total of once. To his bed's headboard.

"Ve…No." Italy smiled at the furious German and rocked back and forth on his heels. Germany was pulling against his restraints with all of his strength but to no avail.

"Italy." Germany growled, his growing anger making him see red as the Italian only seemed to grow happier.

"Germany was saying some mean things about me." Italy reminded his ally, wagging his finger in Germany's face. Germany's eyebrow twitched in anger but he closed his eyes and breathed deeply through his nose in an attempt to calm himself down. There was no way snapping at Italy would help his case now. Once he was calm-er…calmer-Germany looked at the brunette once more.

"I'm sorry Italy. I shouldn't have said those things about you." This caused the brunette to pause as he wasn't really expecting an apology from the blonde writhing on the bed. Finally recovering, Italy sat on Germany's bed to lean over him.

Germany could feel the Italian's hot breath wash over him in waves and to his surprise; it didn't reek of garlic but almost had a nice, minty scent to it.

"I don't believe you, Doitsu."

The next thing Germany could register was Italy ducking his head away from him and his head suddenly reappearing strangely close to his hips.

"Italy, what the hell are you doing?" There was no verbal response from the brunette who was gently kissing Germany's clothed abdomen and rubbing soothing patterns into his sides with gentle fingers.

Finally, after almost ten minutes of his strange but wonderful ministrations and Germany clenching and unclenching his jaw while demanding some kind of answer, Italy leapt off of Germany's bed and danced towards the door.

"Ve, I'll see you later Doitsu. I'm going to make some pasta!"

The door slammed behind Italy before Germany could find his voice. The German threw his head back and ground his teeth, thinking of complicated war tactics and math problems. Anything to get his mind off of whatever the hell his Italian ally had been doing to him as being found in this position by anyone at any time wasn't something Germany was looking forward to. But who knows what kind of hell he might have to suffer through if someone-someone like Prussia-found him tied to his bed with Italy's tie, all hot and bothered and completely alone.

"What the hell did you do to Japan, Italy? He was saying things too!"

Devon: Yeah, not my favorite ending. Oh well. Hopefully you enjoyed this weird, first part of my three part dream. The next part features Japan and Greece and has something to do with Episode 3 (and 2 I guess) of World Series. Can you guess?


	2. Chapter 2: Ancient Spartan Training

Devon: Mm it took me a while to get around to this one. Sorry about that. Alright, this is...the second part of my dream and I realize now it kind of sounds like rape. But there wasn't any in my dream. I swear. There was oral sex but since I didn't want to make this an "M"-rated fic so I didn't write that. ...And as far as I know, no I'm not a closet pervert. My brain just does terrible things to me while I'm asleep.

Warning: Okay, so yes at the end you are supposed to assume there is some type of sex involved but I didn't write any.

Rating: T because even though I would probably rate my dream M or even M+, I just don't really want to write that. Because I'm lazy. Maybe later.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia. And if I did I would probably have some kind of weird-ass harem because I have this strange attraction to Japan, China, Germany, Russia, and Canada. Especially China and Germany...Anyways.

What Did You Put in My Drink?!  
Chapter Two: Ancient Spartan Training  
(Suggested) Japan x Greece (I don't know the couple name for this one since I don't actually ship these two. xD)

"Do you want to…try it?"

Japan stuttered at Greece's question. The seemingly emotionless country next to him looked over at the nervous Asian with a slow smile spreading itself across his face.

"Th-thank you, no." Japan tried to reply to his companion but his voice caught in his throat as he mouthed his reply.

The next time Japan blinked, the country side around him had changed. Taking a step back in surprise, Japan looked on as the Greek city-state of Sparta transformed itself from ruins into the time of ancient Sparta's golden age. People bustled around on the streets below while sounds of swords clashing and war-training took place on all sides of him. Japan turned to the laid-back country with him, to ask exactly what had happened but his companion had changed as well. The familiar blue t-shirt and pale jacket of Greece had been replaced by golden battle armor and a blood red cape. The cat that had been situated on top of the Mediterranean country's unruly brown hair was replaced by a war helmet. Greece's hands no longer held a kitten but were placed on the handle of his sword. Despite the tired gaze that still lingered in Greece's deep green eyes, he looked fierce in his battle garb.

Japan was at a loss for words. As Greece leered down at him, a warm breeze blew past the two and it was then that Japan realized he had been affected as well. A simple white loincloth was wrapped around his slim hips, barely helping him remain decent. His otherwise exposed skin was being kissed by the sun hanging high in the cloudless sky.

"Wh-what is going on?" Japan asked, crossing his arms over his exposed chest nervously.

"You will show respect, solider!" Greece scolded with unexpected fierceness, glaring down at his pale companion. Though he didn't raise his voice, Japan was frightened. Of course, the strong hand that clasped onto his shoulder and the sandaled foot that positioned itself behind his bare feet might have added to the overall fight he was currently feeling. Before Japan could comprehend exactly what was happening, he was on his back on the fresh green grass of the hill, the wind knocked out of his lungs.

Greece kneeled over the confused, breathless Asian, one leg on either side of him.

"Are you going to cooperate for your physical inspection or will it have to be done by force?" Greece asked, trailing calloused fingers down Japan's neck. Japan swallowed harshly and shivered as the rough fingertips of Greece danced over his collar bone and down his chest.

"M-my what?"

Smirking, Greece lowered his head and nipped at Japan's collar bone none too lightly, leaving a trail of faint bruises that were sure to darken over time. Japan winced at each nip, allowing Greece to note that his solider didn't have a high tolerance of pain. He would have to change that.

In one fluid moment, Greece ripped the loincloth from around Japan's narrow hips and lowered himself even farther onto the Asian country.

"By force it is, then."

Devon: Yeah, I just didn't want to write the sex scene. And really, it wasn't supposed to sound like rape. ...At least I don't think it was.

Replies to the Reviewers:

First of all, thank you all for reviewing:

Now then.

**Alice Innocence**: My one lonely reviewer, thank you for your love. xD And I won't tease you. Also, yes. Italy is a tease. xD Anyways, I changed this chapter a little bit from the rough draft in my notebook, you like?


	3. Chapter 3: Love and Hate and America

Devon: Good Lord, Mother of God, somebody shoot me I feel like a terrible person for writing this. On the bright side, only one more chapter (unless other truly twisted dreams begin to haunt me).

Warning: Um...swearing and this could be considered rape...Also, if I continued to write this out, it would probably be a threesome but since I didn't, you can assume whatever you want about this.

Rating: T. This is probably-hopefully-the closest I'll get to writing M, at least for this fanfiction.

Discalimer: Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia. And if I did I would probably have some kind of weird-ass harem because I have this strange attraction to Japan, China, Germany, Russia, and Canada. Especially China and Germany...Anyways.

What Did You Put in My Drink?  
Chapter Three: Love and Hate and America  
France x England (and you could technically assume France x England x America)

England struggled against the tight grip on his wrists, turning the pale skin there an angry red. His limbs and lips were slowly being bruised by the abusive way his…"partner" held him down and attempted to ravish him. Of course, he didn't want any part of it as he was still extremely pissed off at the bloody git above him.

"Oh England, stop being such a stiff." France sang softly in the Englishman's ear and England silently wondered how much alcohol it took for France to be come _this_ strange. Angry sex was one thing but even France wouldn't force himself onto England when he was this pissed off.

Somehow or another, this had to be America's fault.

While trying to calculate exactly what substance had gotten into his partner/enemy/who-even-knows-any more's system, France began to whisper sweet nothings into his ear. Except, by this point the Frenchman had misjudged his anatomy terribly and was speaking to his collarbone and "sweet nothings" by France's standards were erotic dirty talk he thought was romantic because it was in French.

England continued to yell profanities that would make even his lover's Prussian friend blush but France wasn't having any of it. The blonde continued to try and arouse his flustered prisoner with dirty ideas and moving his admittedly-flexible-for-a-man body in the best ways he knew how.

Then France kissed him. Chances are, even he finally grew tired of England's screaming (okay, angry yelling, France could never tire of England's screaming) and kissed him. It was one of Those Kisses that even when pissed as a bat out of hell, England gave into it. Of course England hadn't been this mad in a while so he was stubbornly refusing to make those cute little moaning noises France loved to hear.

Unbeknownst to the perverted Frenchman, in the back of his mind, England was mentally letting his knees go weak. He was melting into the ground as wonderful feelings only France could evoke made him want to be alone with France forever in their perfect world. Outwardly he glared and struggled and even made a few good attempts at a well-placed kick-or rather knee- to France's "vital regions".

It wasn't until the door opened on the other side of the room and pounding footsteps filled the air that France removed his face from England's own.

"Eheheheheheh, what the…hell are you two doing?"

"Get out of here America." England growled, not because he had forgiven France and wanted to show him that, but because being molested by France was bad enough. He didn't need an audience too.

"I'm trying to make hot passionate love to my little love muffin but he is angry at me." France pouted up at the obnoxious America looking down at the two sprawled across the floor. England considered bashing his head against the marble floor until he black out as a blood red color stained his cheeks and even America looked embarrassed by the statement.

"What the bloody hell?" England demanded, struggling as France slowly sat up to straddle his hips. Using one hand, France pinned England's arms above his head and used his other hand to cover England's mouth. Remembering once when he had covered America's mouth in a slightly similar way, England considered licking France. However, since it was France, England imagined the sick bastard would like it and kept his swollen tongue inside his mouth.

"Would you help me America?" France asked, batting his girlish eyelashes, not noticing the paling faces of the man under him or their American "guest".

"E-Excuse me?" France didn't respond for a few minutes, letting his question run through the minds of the two. Finally, England thought America would yell at them some annoying ridiculous thing and storm out but life had decided today wouldn't be England's day long ago.

"Well I'm the hero," America started slowly, as if rationalizing what he was doing for himself and the others in the room. "And if you two are having an argument that only sex will fix," Oh God, England thought, am I really hearing this? "Then I can help you fix it and perhaps you two will sort out your problems for a while and we can finally get something done in the meetings."

America nodded in determination, making his decision and suddenly that damn overconfident glint sparked back to life in his eyes.

England tried to scream his disapproval against France's hand as France adjusted himself slightly lower, not putting enough weight on the dirty blonde to hurt him but enough to prevent him from moving his legs.

"Ah yes little America. While I hold him down, you undo his trousers."

The laughter of America and France began to fill the air and all England could do was struggle uselessly against the delicious weight pinning him down.

Devon: Yup, I feel like a sick little pervert. I'm going to go burry myself in a hole now. Gosh, I didn't even write a real sex scene.

Replies to the Reviewers:

First of all, thank you all for reviewing:

Now then.

**russia fan: **xD As this was a dream and it really just kind of switched scenes randomly with no warning, I have no clue. However, that is a really entertaining idea.

**Alice D. Lovett: **Ve~Yay! (xD I had to) And darn. Haha yes, you did change your name. So now my replies to reviewers sounds weird because it looks like I'm talking to two different people. xD Oh well, I'm too lazy to go change it. Well, here's the next chapter with even more suggested rape! Even I can't deny the rape in this one. ...Secretly, my subconcious hates me so it does stuff like this to me when I'm least expecting it and laughs at my pain. xD Hope you enjoyed the FrUk-ing rape. xD (Once more, I just had to. Terrible pun but oh well.)


	4. Chapter 4: Strip Tease

Devon: Finally the last chapter! I honestly don't normally write chapters back to back like this (okay not exactly back to back but you get my drift). However, I have been inspired to write another Hetalia fanfiction that will be much longer and serious (not like depressing but not um...crack? xD) than this one so I wanted to finish this one. I've started multiple fanfictions from the same fandom around the same time and it didn't end well for either fic so I'm trying to...not do that. xD

Warning: Swearing, mention of alcohol consumption (possibly alcohol abuse), and um...oh right. Stripping.

Rated: T. Less mature than the last two chapters but still ridiculously inappropriate enought to need a T-rating.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia. And if I did I would probably have some kind of weird-ass harem because I have this strange attraction to Japan, China, Germany, Russia, and Canada. Especially China and Germany...Anyways.

What Did You Put in My Drink?  
Chapter Four: Strip Tease  
(suggested/hinted) Germany x Italy (GerIta)

They had chosen America to spy on the Axis Powers this time. They being the other Allies. At first, America had complained. He had argued and tried to get out of the work every single way he knew possible. But to no avail. He still ended up here, wherever the hell he was, with slicked back hair, large sunglasses over his normal ones, and strange clothes France had pulled out of nowhere at the last minute.

The reason America hated doing things for the Allies, aside from his chronic laziness, was simple. They expected results. It was rare that they got what they wanted but they still expected them. And America was the Hero so he had to give them what they wanted, right?

So here, where ever he was, America actually tried to focus on the task at hand. But it was sooooo hard…dude.

America had such trouble not thinking of himself and burgers and aliens and airplanes the whole time.

On this particular little trip, America had brought with him a small notepad in which he dutifully took notes on _everything_ about his targets. Maybe it was the end of the war looming in the future, maybe it was the beer, maybe it was thanks to the promised reward of a burger _not_ made by England, but whatever it was, America was motivated to bring back results.

And so, the Axis Powers were carefully scrutinized. Their outfits (unlike his partners, Italy was out of uniform with a nice pair of slacks, a white button up shirt, and a loose striped tie) and seating arrangements (Germany sat alone, across the table from Italy who was surprisingly close to Japan)were noted. America noted their food consumption (eheheheh, okay not really. Hunger pulled America away from his job for a while and when he came back, Germany and Japan had switched places and their food had been taken away) as well as alcohol consumption and anything else America deemed important.

Oh right, the alcohol consumption. Germany had already had three beers between America's arrival to the small German bar and his departure to get food. It was impossible to tell how many had been consumed in his absence but a half-empty mug was in the German's hand when he had returned. Around the fifth or six full beer America witnessed Germany consumed, the normally serious, put-together country reached up and loosed the first two or three buttons of his shirt.

Despite his watch full, mainly sober eyes being continuously trained on the Axis Powers, numbers began to get fuzzy in America's mind.

Eleven beers for Germany alone certainly didn't sound right.

But when, a beer later, Germany stood up from his seat and draped his coat over Italy's shoulders, America wondered if twelve was really that far off.

Music started up in the bar at Germany's cue two-or maybe three- beers later. Said German stood up from his seat once more and lazily began to walk the perimeter of the table he had previously occupied. Italy was happily oblivious to the strangeness of Germany's actions while Japan began to shift nervously in his seat, not sure what his normally serious companion was doing.

America, who had reluctantly swallowed his desires and ordered a water, choked on the previously-believed-to-be-innocent drink as Germany pulled Italy from his seat and began to dance with him.

Wolf-whistles made even Italy blush as he tried to remove himself from Germany's hold. This wasn't _his_ Germany. Maybe while in a romantic relationship of some kind Germany would do this with a partner, but not in public. Not like this.

Germany's signature, ever-present black tank-top suddenly joined the dirt of the bar's floor and Japan covered his face.

America wondered if he should leave now while he was still alive or somehow discreetly record this for black mail later.

"Ger-Germany?" Italy squeaked his question, backing up, only to be stopped by the table behind him. A beer the waiter had brought to the table for Germany right before his dance number sloshed in its mug, some splashing Japan who pushed away from the table. The dark haired country refused to look up as Germany moved closer to the slim Italian trapped between him and the table. Italy move the only way he could, by bending his back until he lay flat on the table.

The German's muscles flexed under pale, glistening skin as he hovered over his confused prisoner. Italy mused quietly that he wouldn't mind such a situation if the country above him wasn't so completely drunk because the blue-eyed solider looking down at him flashed a smile that made his stomach do a happy dance inside him.

"Germany?" Italy whispered, not sure what he would say to stop his friend but knowing Germany would be miserable if he discovered that he did something so unlike him while under the influence of alcohol.

"West! Stop this right now!"

America was thankful for the Prussian's interruption, though how he had missed the obnoxious ex-country this whole time baffled him. It seemed more likely for Prussia to start trying to seduce the other customers than his stiff younger brother yet the attention of the whole bar had been on Germany for close to twenty minutes.

Italy almost fainted with relief at Prussia's voice distracting Germany who had pulled away from him almost five minutes ago. If Germany's dance hadn't been strangely alluring as it was, when he reached for the waist band of his trousers, Italy was pretty sure there wasn't his Germany inside that mind anymore but something very, very scary.

Prussia grabbed Germany by the arm and pulled him closer to him.

"What the hell are you doing?" Prussia studied the flushed face of his younger brother and wondered if the blonde was trying to get someone to shoot him and end his misery early.

It seemed the obnoxious older brother being the reasonable one was enough to snap Germany out of his drunken state because a horrified expression came over his face.

"Brother, where is my shirt?"

"I would like to ask you the same thing." Prussia replied. Silently, Italy sneaked up and handed the now-dusty, black tank top to the angry albino.

"I think I should take Germany home now." Italy muttered quietly and no one dared argue.

A few minutes later, America slipped out of the bar and leaned against the dark exterior, looking out towards the speckled night sky.

"This is going to be a good story for the meeting tomorrow." America laughed, no longer disturbed by what he witnessed and might have seen had Prussia not intervened. "God, what a story."

Devon: This is pretty long for one of my chapters. And yeah, I don't really like the ending either but whatever, it needed to end somehow. ...So I was thinking, what if this is like the prequel to the rest of the fic. When Italy takes Germany home, it leads to him tying Germany up. Then when he went to go "make pasta" he messed around with something he wasn't supposed to and screwed the time up so that Greece could...examine Japan. And finally, America went to relay the info he had gotten/tell the embarrassing story about Germany and walked in on England and France. Hm? Possible? Maybe. Anyways, hope you all enjoyed the last chapter of this ridiculous crack fic.

Replies to the Reviewers:

First of all, thank you all for reviewing:

Now then.

**Alice D. Lovett: **I just really wanted to give England a ridiculous nick name. xD And I'm glad it made you smile. :3 I hope it never does. That vital regions joke is the best. xD It was totally cute. Just in a really disturbing way. xD Well I'm glad they were appreciated. Those puns are so cheesy though. xD


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